onths, but I have.
Listen; there is much afoot. The King, or the Lord Cromwell, or both,
make war upon the lesser Houses, dissolving them, seizing their goods,
turning the religious out of them upon the world to starve. His Grace
sends Royal Commissioners to visit them, and be judge and jury both.
They were coming here, but I have friends and some fortune of my own,
who was not born meanly or ill-dowered, and I found a way to buy them
off. One of these Commissioners, Thomas Legh, as I heard only to-day,
makes inquisition at the monastery of Bayfleet, in Yorkshire, some
eighty miles away, of which my cousin, Alfred Stukley, whose letter
reached me this morning, is the Prior. Emlyn, I'll go to this rough
man--for rough he is, they say. Old and feeble as I am, I'll seek
him out and offer up the ancient House I rule to save your life and
Cicely's--yes, and Bridget's also."

"You will go, Mother! Oh! God's blessing be on you. But how will you go?
They will never suffer it."

The old nun drew herself up, and answered--

"Who has the right to say to the Prioress of Blossholme that she shall
not travel whither she will? No Spanish Abbot, I think. Why, but now
that proud priest's servants would have forbidden me to enter your
chamber in my own House, but I read them a lesson they will not forget.
Also I have horses at my command, but it is true I need an escort, who
am not too strong and little versed in the ways of the outside world,
where I have scarcely strayed for many years. Now I have bethought me
of that red-haired lay-brother, Thomas Bolle. I am told that though
foolish, he is a valiant man whom few care to face; moreover, that he
understands horses and knows all roads. Do you think, Emlyn Stower, that
Thomas Bolle will be my companion on this journey, with leave from the
Abbot, or without it?" and again she looked her in the eyes.

"He might, he might; he is a venturous man, or so I remember him in
my youth," answered Emlyn. "Moreover, his forefathers have served
the Harfletes and the Foterells for generations in peace and war, and
doubtless, therefore, he loves my lady yonder. But the trouble is to get
at him."

"No trouble at all, Emlyn; he is one of the watch outside the gate. But,
woman, what token?"

Emlyn thought for a moment, then drew a ring off her finger in which was
set a cornelian heart.

"Give him this," she said, "and say that the wearer bade him follow the
bearer to the death, for the sake of tha